


The Drilling Rig, Part 6

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: AU, First Times, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 08:53:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/796291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The dancing finally ends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Drilling Rig, Part 6

## The Drilling Rig, Part 6

by Scribe

Author's website:  <http://www.angelfire.com/grrl/scribescribbles>

Standard disclaimers pertaining to ownership of the characters. This story is not meant to reflect on the actors who portrayed the characters.

This first appeared in My Mongoose Ezine. Thanks to Elaine for the beta.

* * *

Part Six: Need 

Blair strolled out of the locker room, but once he got out of sight, he put on some speed. Not-So-Little Blair was starting to make a fuss. He was irritated that there had been all that nice beefcake right there within reach, and he couldn't have a taste. Not-SoLittle Blair needed some serious play time. 

In his room, Blair dumped his things on the dresser and ripped his shirt off. He dug in one of the wall drawers and came up with one of the magazines he'd bought on shore. This one had a spread featuring a big, seriously ripped dude with short, dark hair _almost_ wearing a 'police uniform'. 

Blair settled himself comfortably on the bed, propping himself up at a good angle on his pillow, and opened to the pictures he'd been thinking about. "Oh, yeah." _Very_ nice. Still a little young for Blair's tastes, not more than, say, twenty-five, but still choice. He started with the photographs that showed him fully clad. "Lookin' sharp, m'man. _Love_ those uniforms." Then the clothing disappeared, a piece at a time. Blair reached down with the hand that wasn't holding the magazine, and lightly rubbed his crotch. As his eyes wandered over the male beauty spread out in the glossy photos, he started to harden. 

Soon his erection was pressing almost uncomfortably against his fly. Wanting to tease himself a little, he didn't open his pants right away. Instead, he eased a hand down his waistband. His fingertips found the slick wetness of his cock head, and he pinched himself lightly, groaning with pleasure. He managed to flip to the centerfold one-handed while he skimmed his fingers around his thickening shaft. 

"Oh, damn. They left the gun belt and nightstick. And just _look_ what he's doing with the nightstick!" This definitely called for a firmer grip on the situation, and he quickly opened his jeans and pulled out his rigid staff. But when he looked at the centerfold again... 

*Dammit, he's just too bland. He needs a rougher edge. Kinda like... Oh, yeah. Ellison. Perfect.* Blair closed his eyes and pictured the big man with the ice blue eyes. He wished he'd dared to take a really close look at the guy's body while he'd had the chance, but he had enough to fuel some fantasies. 

Blair stroked himself slowly, imagining Jim pushing him back on the bed and crawling over him. _I top_ , he'd said. "Becha do, Big Guy." Blair breathed, his hand working faster. 

There was a knock on the door. 

Blair froze, eyes flashing open, hand stilling. "What the _fuck_?" Maybe they would go away. He lay there for a moment, dick in hand, and the banging came again, more insistent this time. "Shit!" 

Much as he wished to ignore it, it could be Simon with something important, so he stuffed himself back into his pants and pulled up the zipper, with difficulty. Getting off the bed, he went and jerked the door open. *"What?!* 

Jim Ellison was standing in the hall. "Oh, Christ! What do _you_ want? I'm kinda in the middle of something here, Ellison..." His voice trailed off. 

Jim was looking weird again, but in a different way. Now he didn't look blank, or vacant. He looked _intent_. His nostrils were flaring, and his eyes were like lasers. They took in the magazine Blair still had clutched in one hand, then bounced to the prominent bulge at his fly, and up to the stiff points of his nipples, peaking through his chest hair. Finally they came to rest on his face. "I can see that." He put his hands on Blair's shoulders, and pushed him back into the cabin, entering after him and kicking the door shut. 

Jim then took the magazine away from Blair and tossed it to the floor. "You don't need that." 

Blair found that he was breathing hard, and his prick had somehow managed to get even stiffer. "You weren't asked, man." 

Again Ellison gripped his shoulders. This time he pulled Blair against his body. Blair felt a warm, solid nudge against his lower belly. Ellison was looking down at him. "Ask me," he demanded. 

Blair looked up at him through his lashes, and moistened his lips, seeing the way Jim's eyes followed the passage of his tongue. He grinned slowly, slyly. "Ya wanna?" 

"Hell, yes!" Ellison's mouth came down on his so quickly that he barely had time to part his lips. He instantly got a mouthful of hot, wet, aggressive tongue. It was heaven. 

In under three seconds the roughneck had him moaning out loud. Ellison's hands slid down from his shoulders to knead at his chest. Slightly callused fingers lightly pinched one nipple, while the ring in the other was gently tugged. Blair jerked his head back, saying breathlessly, "Shit, you work fast!" 

"I'm only fast when it suits me," Jim murmured. One hand slid down Blair's abdomen and settled on his fly, while the other skimmed around and slipped down his waistband in back. "When it counts, I can be _real_ slow." 

Blair clutched at him as a finger delved into the crack of his ass, sliding up and down the crease. "I'm not sure I'm gonna want slow," he gasped. "I'm not sure I can _wait_ for slow." 

"We can do slow next time." There was a pop as Jim unsnapped Blair's jeans, then the faint rasp of his zipper being lowered. A warm hand slipped inside the gap, and Blair closed his eyes as Jim found his arousal. "Hey." His tone was pleased. "No underwear?" 

"You noticed." Although his mind was already starting to dissolve in a delicious sexual haze, something was troubling Blair. Being an academic had it's curse. Sometimes he just _had_ to know... "How did you know?" 

"Know what?" Ellison licked a path up his neck, nuzzling his ear. 

"This. How'd you know I wanted this? And I don't mean just from remembering the book shop. You came to my room at a specific time, exactly when I was at my horniest. You _knew_. _How_ did you know?" 

Blair dissolve into a whimper as Jim sucked his earlobe, then nipped it. "Can't that wait? I'm kind of busy here to play twenty questions." 

"No." Summoning will power he didn't believe he had, and he _knew_ would last only if he could keep Ellison's hands off his body, Blair pulled away. "Tell me, or we both die of blue balls." 

Ellison sighed. "You're gonna be a bossy bottom, aren't you?" Blair shrugged. "All right, Einstein. If you must know, I smelled you." 

"Hey!" Blair was indignant. "Man, I _just_ showered. You're a witness, you saw." 

"Right, and nearly went blind from staring. But not like that. Not BO. Pheromones." Blair's forehead puckered. *Damn, he's cute when he's puzzled,* Jim thought. 

"Pheromones? But those are hormonal secretions." 

"Arousal scents. You smelled like sex." He leaned toward Blair breathing deeply. He almost quivered, and a low growl rumbled in his chest. "It's coming off you in waves, Chief. I could probably cum just standing here, smelling you. But I'd rather fuck you." 

"I'm doable." 

This time Blair didn't have to fantasize about Jim Ellison pushing him down on his bed; he had the real thing. When he was on the bed, Jim pulled Blair's jeans the rest of the way off, leaving him naked. Then he started on his own clothes. 

Blair suddenly winced. "Shit! What about protection?" Jim silently slipped a foil pack out of his pocket and flipped it to the younger man. As he tore it open, Blair said, "Ex-Boy Scout, huh?" 

"Ex-Ranger." 

The man was quick. He was already minus shirt, and working on those damn boots. "What do we do for lube, oh Prepared One?" 

Jim skinned off his pants and underwear in one move. He moved to the bed, grabbed Blair's legs, and pushed them up and open, lying on the mattress between them. "Nature provides." 

"Oh, geez." Blair fell back, stunned, as Jim bent, spread his ass cheeks, and began to rim him. That had happened only once before, and it had taken a solid hour of begging, and fellatio till his jaw was numb to get the guy to apply a few reluctant licks. Jim went at it like he was a gourmet, and Blair was a particularly fine morsel of haute cuisine. 

Blair twitched as the sensual wetness bathed the little pucker, over and over. He could feel himself starting to relax, the muscles softening. Then Jim pushed, and he got the incredible sensation of that talented tongue penetrating his ass. He couldn't help it. He bucked, hoping vaguely that he wasn't going to break his nose or anything. It was alright, though. He heard a muffled laugh. *Oh, damn, what a sensation!* and the probe came again. 

When Jim had tongue fucked him to his satisfaction, Blair was beyond ready. Jim finally came up for air. "Gimme the rubber," he grated. Blair, hand trembling, handed him the rubber circlet, and watched avidly as he smoothed it down over his straining erection. 

*Maybe I should ask him to open me a little more. That is one big chunk of beef.* 

He didn't need to worry. Jim slapped the outside of his thigh and said, "Get 'em up." Blair quickly lifted his legs, arranging them over Jim's shoulders. Ellison moved a little closer, spat in his hand, and rubbed it into the crease of Blair's ass. Blair felt one thick, slick finger slip smoothly into his ass, and put his head back, closing his eyes. 

He felt it move inside him a few times, then it was joined by a second finger, increasing his sense of fullness. He heard Jim rumble, "You look good like that." The fingers spread, then crooked, and pushed, and glided across his prostate. Blair gasped at the sudden burst of hot pleasure, hips arching. Again there was a low, purring laugh, and Ellison did it again. "Yeah, that's nice, isn't it? You like that. But I can do better." 

He shifted, fingers sliding out, and Blair felt the hot nudge of latex covered flesh against the spread opening. His eyes flew open, going to the face looming over him. He wanted to see Ellison's eyes as he slid inside him for the first time. 

Ellison stared into the eyes of the man spread open beneath him. The generosity and openness of the younger man was almost humbling. After Jim had rejected him in such an off-hand manner, he was now willing to share this pleasure with him. Jim wanted to make it good for Blair. He deserved it. 

He moved slowly, starting to sink into the tight clasp of his lover's body. Blair whined in approval as the thick member eased up inside him, stretching muscles that hadn't been used for awhile. Jim kept going, feeling the smaller man's body seem to form itself around him. At last he was buried full length in the hot, clinging depths, and he paused there. 

The sheer ecstasy of the feeling washed over him. His vision started to gray, and he thought,*No! God, not now!* 

But strong hands gripped his, and a calm voice said, "No, you don't. Listen to me, Jim. Feel me. You're inside me now, I'm all around you. You should be able to feel my pulse. Can you feel it?" He did. It was a hot, sweet, steady throb. "Concentrate on that, man. Concentrate on my heartbeat, follow it back. Be with me." 

His vision cleared, the world returned, and he was looking into Blair Sandburg's flushed face. When he saw that clarity had return to Jim Ellison, Blair squeezed his hand in relief. "You were zoning again." 

"It was just too much, Chief. You feel too good." 

"I know I'm good, but that's the first time I've ever been accused of knocking someone senseless. Are you gonna be alright?" 

"I'm gonna be better than alright." Jim moved, pulling back and pushing back in with one smooth motion. 

Blair's head rolled on the pillow as Jim's glans nudged over his prostate, "Oh, yeah," he whispered. 

Despite both their expectations, this time it _was_ slow, and gentle, and very, very satisfying for both of them. They found a rhythm that suited them both and moved together. Blair's hips made small thrusts up, seeking that little bit extra of the hard flesh that filled him so well. Jim slid inside him with an ease and sense of completeness he hadn't found in any other partner. It was very new, but somehow it was sweetly familiar. *We  fit,* Jim thought. 

As the dance sped up, becoming more forceful, Blair reached over his head and grabbed the bar that ran across the headboard, hanging on as his new lover began to pound into him. He grunted softly with each lunge, feeling at once both vulnerable and powerful. Jim *Bless 'im for a thoughtful bastard* reached between them, took Blair's weeping cock in his hands, and began to jerk him off, his touch firm. 

Even though Blair had a head start, Jim came first. He stiffened over Blair, his lips pulled back from his teeth in what looked like a snarl. Even through the shielding of latex, Blair felt the heated throb of his semen as it jetted. He bore down with his internal muscles very deliberately, milking at the embedded prick. Jim moaned as the rippling sensation coaxed the last few drops of sperm from him. 

Blair never would have thought anyone that big could be so limber, but Jim bent and, softening cock still in the clasp of Blair's body, lowered his mouth onto the smaller man's erection. Blair cried out at the sudden combination of pleasures. He'd never expected to experience both of his favorite types of sex at the same time unless he made it into a trio, and certainly not at the hands of one man. Jim Ellison was special, alright. 

As he shot a geyser of hot spunk into the welcoming mouth, Blair thought dazedly, *If we move to Hawaii, we can get married. Same sex marriages are legal there.* 

* * *

End The Drilling Rig, Part 6 by Scribe: poet77665@yahoo.com

Author and story notes above.

  
Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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